While I was on the way home from Charleston, I began to write a letter to my parents. If you know me, you know I'm not really a big fan of them. Basically, it's a sort of forgiveness letter of sorts. It's something that I'm going to work on over years, something that will be the last thing I give them before I move out completely on my own. I'm not really sure what inspired such a writing, but I really just have a desire to do it. Basically though, I ended up thinking long and hard about all the things that went on during my childhood and every little instance that I remember from when I was really young, and slowly moved chronologically forward as such throughout the early period of my life.
There was one thing that really stuck out to me -- There are certain things that you remember out of your childhood. And you will always remember these things, and they will not, and can not, be erased. And I'm sure that we are not able to explain why these things are so stuck in our minds, but they are.
So when I was thinking back to my early years, here are some things that I remembered, that I had no idea were even important to me. Apparently though, they must have been or else I wouldn't remember them... right?
I remember being in Wisconsin -- very vaguely. It's weird sometimes, how I think I don't really remember something, but once I look at pictures, I feel like I definitely remember some stuff. One thing in particular is staying in a sort of cabin. I just remember it being dark, but early in the morning with a little bit of bright light poking through. I also remember riding on a jetski, or some sort of really fast boat or something. And finally, I remember sitting on a dog (which we have a picture of).
Another thing I distinctly remember about my childhood was an early obsession with motorcycles. I remember getting some toy motorcycles from Dan Dawdy for one of my earlier birthdays. Later on I got some remote control motorcycles that my brother and I used for hours (or was it he that received that gift...?) Regardless, when I first learned how to ride, I would ride my little blue Huffy around the yard with work gloves on, my red and blue Osh Kosh B'Gosh jacket on, these ridiculous orange star-shaped sunglasses, and a green TMNT helmet too. I was so proud of myself learning to ride without the training wheels, and I buzzed and sputtered my way all around the yard, pretending I was on a motorcycle.
When I was in the lower end of grade school, and maybe even Kindergarten, we had this giant weeping willow tree that hung over one corner of the driveway. It was there for quite awhile, but at one point we finally decided to cut it down. Either that, or we had to, I'm not really sure. But I distinctly remember coming home one day after school, and I'm pretty sure my mother made me a "face lunch" or something like that. After I finished lunch, I sat outside on the little stone porch that we had, and watching the guys come and tear it down. It made me feel so sad, which is a bit ridiculous since it was only a tree, but it still did.
It's real interesting to see how these things stick with us. It seems as if there has to be some sort of overpowering significance -- and yet I fail to see how I will ever find out what those are.
Lyric of the day:
"She took my breath away, and now it's time to pay"